


ready for the fall

by thefeelsonthebus



Series: Night Visions [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Disney Movies, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mostly fluff though, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, i always like to tag just in case, i can't write endings, literally everyone is, really brief though - Freeform, the ending is really cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4505919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefeelsonthebus/pseuds/thefeelsonthebus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve rubbed his shoulder, apparently worried. “Buck?” He asked, his voice nervous. “This is –“<br/>“Tony Stark,” the man interrupted. “Heard you’re a friend of Steve’s.”<br/>“Bit more than friends, actually,” Sam mumbled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ready for the fall

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from The Fall by Imagine Dragons
> 
> the summary doesn't actually have much to do with the story, but it was the only piece of the text that actually would work as one

“Steve?” Bucky tugged nervously on Steve’s sleeve as he waited for Sam to come back.  
He turned around, his eyebrows creased at first, but when he looked at Bucky, they softened. “Yeah?”  
“What if Howa –“ Bucky corrected himself quickly. “What if he knows?” He kept his voice low in case anyone was listening. He didn’t trust anything here.  
“He won’t care, Buck,” Steve said, taking Bucky’s right hand and rubbing his thumb soothingly across it. It calmed Bucky a little. Not a lot, but a little. “Tony’s a good guy under the sarcasm. He isn’t everyone’s favourite person, but he’s not like that.”  
“But…” Bucky started. “What if…”  
He was interrupted when Sam walked back into the room, accompanied by a man who looked startlingly, horrifyingly familiar.

Bucky didn’t realise he was mouthing Howard until Steve rubbed his shoulder, apparently worried. “Buck?” He asked, his voice nervous. “This is –“  
“Tony Stark,” the man interrupted. “Heard you’re a friend of Steve’s.”  
“Bit more than friends, actually,” Sam mumbled.  
If he wasn’t spaced out, he would have shot a glare at Sam, but as it was, he was too busy trying to stop the memories of him shooting a car’s tires out and then killing the driver and the passenger flooding to the surface of his mind. He didn’t succeed in it.

“I killed your parents,” Bucky said. Inaudibly, at first, then louder. At a whisper. “I killed Howard.” He turned to Steve, trembling. His muscles felt numb, like he was in the ice again. “I killed Howard, Steve, I killed our friend!” He was breathing quickly now, gulping in air like his chest was being compressed. Steve tried to turn him around, to say comforting words that would bring him back, but then Tony was moving forwards.  
Bucky scrambled backwards, hyperventilating. Sam leaned in closer to Tony and whispered “Just be aware. He doesn’t trust anyone apart from Steve. He’s been through hell.”  
“I know,” Tony hissed back, and Bucky felt like he was falling again. Was this what it was like to be human? Crushing guilt? Pain? Regret? An overwhelming urge to either hide your face from the world or stick a gun down your throat? If so, he didn’t want to be human again.

“James,” he said quietly, the sarcasm Steve had warned him about absent. “I ran a weapons company for most of my life. I killed millions of people, all from my work, and I was aware of that. You didn't clue what was happening. You’re innocent, completely innocent. I don’t hate you. I don’t blame you in the slightest. You’re a good guy.”  
Bucky took more great gasps of air. His heart rate was slowing down a little now. Steve smiled, his eyes glistening. “See? See, Buck, you’re a good guy. You don’t have to talk about it if it makes you bad, you don’t even have to think about it. And Buck, you might not believe you’re a good guy, but even if we don’t say it to you, baby, we all think it.”  
“Thank you,” Bucky whispered. Then louder. “Thank you, Steve.” He looked over at Tony. He had stepped back a little, keeping a respectful distance. “And you.”  
Tony nodded. “Anytime.” Then he looked at Steve. “I heard you and James wanted to watch some Disney films.”  
Steve nodded at the same time as Bucky. Sam laughed.  
“Steve, your room should be ok. Nat’s put about 70 cushions and that shit on your bed. Formed a nest. There’s the full collection in the drawers.”  
“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said, and laced his fingers with Bucky’s again. “You coming?” Bucky still didn’t fully trust Tony, because he didn’t know him, and even though he could talk to Sam without flipping out, he still only completely trusted Steve. But Steve’s eyes were so hopeful that all Bucky could do was nod.

They walked out of the room and up to Steve’s together. Bucky pretended not to notice when Steve looked back at Tony and mouthed thank you.

Three flights up, they passed another person who he recognised. God, there were too many familiar people here. He wanted to be alone for a change. She seemed to recognise him too, her red hair swinging forwards as she momentarily paused.  
“Steve,” she said cautiously. “Good to see you.”  
“Bucky,” Steve started, squeezing Bucky’s hand. “This is Natasha.”  
“We’ve met,” she said shortly.  
Bucky’s next breath shuddered on its way out, and her hostile mask dropped. “How are you?”  
Bucky swallowed. He trusted Steve, liked Sam. He wasn’t too sure about Tony yet. But this woman… even after meeting her three times, he still didn’t understand her. “Been better,” he said, actually succeeding in seeming cold and nonchalant.  
Steve swallowed, squeezing Bucky’s hand. Bucky immediately felt guilty. “Sorry,” he mumbled, partly to Natasha and partly to Steve.  
“It’s fine,” Natasha said, at the same time as Steve said “You didn’t do anything.” Bucky looked at the floor, then up at Natasha.  
She didn’t seem annoyed, or angry. She wasn’t even indifferent. There was the tiniest sad smile on her face.  
“Speak to you later,” Steve said to Natasha, and led him upstairs. Bucky looked back at Natasha, and she gave him a little wave as he went.

Once he had gone upstairs and settled on Steve’s bed, Steve stretched out to the TV. “You said Frozen?” he asked softly.  
Bucky nodded as Steve slid the DVD into the player.

They settled down to watch the film, Steve’s arm tucked tight around Bucky. Bucky managed to lose his messed-up self in the film, in the story of Anna and Elsa. He understood why it had appeal for young kids. The animation was gorgeous; Bucky was almost in disbelief, and the characters were pretty and relatable. Bucky especially liked Elsa. And the songs. God, they were so catchy. Bucky even heard Steve humming the big ballad one under his breath as Elsa sang it. It had been so long since Bucky had taken pleasure in something as simple and mundane as watching a film with Steve, that he couldn’t help but feel delighted at the animation in the film. It was the first good emotion he’d felt in decades.

It wasn’t until Anna went to visit Elsa in the ice palace that problems started to arise. While Elsa was singing about not being able to control the curse, Bucky felt his heart rate pick up. That was exactly what he was, really. Internalising his feelings about being a monster.  
Steve brought him back to reality by squeezing his hand. Bucky looked up at him. “You okay?” he whispered.  
Bucky swallowed nervously. “Can we watch something else, please?” He asked.  
Steve smiled at him quickly, pausing the DVD. “How about The Princess and the Frog? My ma used to read that to me as a kid.”  
Bucky nodded, smiling at Steve shyly. He was so grateful to him for understanding.

Steve slid that into the DVD player instead, clambering back over to Bucky and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Some of the ice inside Bucky that had been there for decades thawed.

This movie was just as good, but with an even better storyline. Bucky loved Tiana, and her ambition and determination. He also quite liked Charlotte, in her naivety. The villain wasn’t even too scary. Well, he was, but not in the way Bucky would find scary. Heart-pounding, tremor-inducing scary. It didn’t remind him of –

No, he would not think of Pierce –

Both of Steve’s hands were wrapped around his waist, Bucky’s head resting against his shoulder. They hadn’t been this close in so long. He finally let himself fully relax in Steve's embrace, and concentrate on the movie. He decided he actually liked these songs more than the ones in Frozen. They reminded him of what little music he could remember from the 40’s. Steve whispered to him during one of the songs that it was set in 1920’s America, and that this was why it was so familiar. Bucky loved every minute.

During one of the songs, a slow love song, Steve tilted Bucky’s face towards him and kissed him. Bucky kissed back, nervously at first, as though he wouldn’t be as good as Steve remembered, then Steve curled his big dumb hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, and pulled him closer. Bucky tentatively licked at Steve’s bottom lip, and Steve opened his mouth eagerly, his tongue exploring Bucky’s mouth. It was long-awaited and perfect and so right, and it made Bucky feel a little less like that cold assassin who killed dozens and more like James Buchanan Barnes, the man Steve once loved and still loved.

Eventually Bucky pulled away, and rested his nose against Steve’s, grinning. Steve was smiling back, his blue eyes warm and affectionate. Curling his fingers around Bucky’s, he whispered, “I missed you.”  
Bucky whipped his head round to look at the TV. “We’ve missed some,” Bucky mumbled.  
Steve shrugged. “We can rewind it,” he replied, pressing his thumb into Bucky’s cheek.  
Bucky smiled, and turned back around, resting his head against Steve’s chest. Steve raised one of his hands to card his fingers through Bucky’s hair as they finished watching the film.

He was falling again, Bucky thought. Not the bad type of falling, though. The good type. Falling in love. And he knew winter always came after fall, but he’d broken enough rules of nature already. He knew he could break this one.


End file.
